


Silent Night

by Dean_hugs_Sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Cold Weather, Gen, Hurt Sam, Protective Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_hugs_Sammy/pseuds/Dean_hugs_Sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Wendigo and a blizzard prove to be a bad combination for the Winchesters as they take on a hunt in the mountains of Minnesota.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

" _Silent night, Holy night. All is calm, all is bright.."_

Dean hummed along on the Christmas song on the radio. A feeling of nostalgic peace washed over him as the tunes of ' _Silent Night_ ' fell in to a rhythmic harmony with the sound of Sam's soft snores from the passenger seat, and the beat of the Impala's wipers whisking away the heavy snowflakes that were drumming on the windscreen of the car. The wilderness on each side of the road was covered in a thick white layer of snow, and the road in front of the car was getting more slippery and impassable by the second. Awful weather to be driving through, Dean thought with a shake of his head, but at least the snowflakes were falling down slowly and the wind was calm – for now.

A bump in the middle of the road hit the front wheel of the Impala, making the car swirl a bit to the side and making Dean curse under his breath as he expertly got the car back on track. Beside him, Sam mumbled something unintelligible and shifted a little on his seat – the jacket he'd draped over his shoulders sliding down by the motion. Dean automatically reached out a hand and pulled the jacket back up to cover Sam's shoulders, a smile playing on his lips as Sam let out a soft sigh, turned his head towards his big brother and fell still once more. As hunters – and especially as sons of John Winchester – they'd learned to sleep with one eye open; to always be alert and ready for any possible situation that might occur. That was why both brothers always slept more peacefully when the other one was awake, and since the Impala had been their only real home for almost their entire lives, it was the source of comfort and safety; a place where especially the youngest Winchester caught a great deal of shuteye. That was also why Sam was now fast asleep while Dean drove them towards the snowy mountainside in Cook County, Minnesota – towards Eagle Mountain that was the location of their next hunt.

Dean had found an interesting article in a newspaper when the brothers had been passing through a town in Wisconsin – an article about people disappearing in the Eagle Mountain area. There had been no bodies, no immediate signs of struggle or animal attacks; just people taking a trip through the wilderness and then never returning again. The local sheriff department had tried to write the disappearings off as black bear attacks, but wildlife experts had called that very unlikely since bear attacks were not only rare, but there would also have been some sort of remains left of the victims to be found if bears were involved – which in this case there weren't. The oldest Winchester brother had presented the article for Sam, and the two of them had decided that the case was worth checking out. There was only one problem: the weather. From what Dean had heard, the snow would continue to fall, and hunting in this kind of weather could be a dangerous risk to take for the brothers. They had the equipment and the surviving skills needed to make it through even the worst kind of weather, sure, but Dean wondered (and not for the first time that day) if they should lie low for a few days and check out the mountain when the weather had turned better. However, deep down, he knew they wouldn't. It wasn't the Winchesters' style to lie low when there were innocent people to save. Their father had always drilled it into them that there was no such thing as bad weather, only bad preparation. And one look at the missing persons' faces in the newspaper - including the faces of two missing children – did it for Dean; they _had_ to do something. Weather be damned.

As Dean took a turn to the right by the T-junction with Forest Road 170, he was forced to pull over when a roadblock turned up in front of them. He slowed down the Impala and let the car roll to a stop as a police officer approached the car - his waving hand casting dancing shadows in the beams from the headlights of the car. The older Winchester reached out a hand to turn off the radio, glanced at his sleeping little brother who was curled up (as much as his gigantic frame allowed him to do) in the passenger seat, and then turned his eyes back to the forthcoming officer. When the police officer had reached the driver side of the car, Dean rolled down his window and shot the man a smile.

"Good evening, Officer." Dean said and the officer nodded his hello.

"What are you lads doing out here in this weather?" The officer asked, adjusted his hat a bit and blinked a few snowflakes out of his eyes. "Didn't you hear the blizzard warning? We're closing up the roads."

"Blizzard?" Dean huffed with a grin. "Well where we come from, that's just another day at the office. Me and my brother here are planning a hike up the mountain."

"A hike? In this weather?" The officer asked with a puzzled look. "Sorry mate, that's not gonna happen. It's too dangerous to hike up there during a blizzard."

"Ever hear of the Storm Chasers?" Dean asked. "We're like the snow-version of them."

The officer lifted an eyebrow and Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"It's a hobby." He added.

"Nevertheless," the officer said. "we don't allow any passengers through here, you have to turn back. Oh and I suggest that you two find a place to stay for the night. This weather will get ugly pretty soon."

Knowing it was pointless to further argue with the officer, Dean reluctantly did as he was told, backed up the Impala a bit and made a U-turn before driving back in the direction they'd originally come from.

"The Storm Chasers? Really?" Sam said and Dean turned his head to see his little brother looking at him.

"I had to come up with something, alright?" Dean said. "I thought you were sleeping anyway?"

"I was." Sam said and emphasized his words with a yawn, before trying to loosen up his neck muscles by turning his head a bit from side to side. "So, what's the plan?"

"Since we can't take the road to the parking lot by the trailhead, I guess we'll just have to find another place to park the car and then hike from there." Dean said, trying to remember if they passed by any good parking spots earlier.

Sam cleared his voice, opened up the glove compartment and picked up a map and a flashlight, before closing it again. He clicked the flashlight on and let the beam scan over the map – following the road with a finger on the map while a concentrated frown showed up on his forehead.

"You see anything?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the road in front of him as more and more snowflakes whirled in front of the windscreen.

"There's a little lake not far from here." Sam said, still following the road on the map with a finger. "We're gonna have to hike off-road for a while, but at least the car will be hidden from the main road."

"Good." Dean said.

Sam looked up from the map and stared at the heavy snowfall in front of them for a few moments before turning towards Dean.

"It's gonna be crazy out there, Dean." Sam remarked and watched his brother's jaw clench.

"I know." Dean said after a few seconds.

"And we're still going out there?" Sam asked.

"Yup." Dean said and Sam let out a sigh.

"Awesome." He said and washed a hand down his face.

At least he felt well rested.

**_ SPN _**

They parked the Impala by the lake Sam had found on the map, then put on their winter clothing –including hats, scarves and gloves. Both brothers wore backpacks on their shoulders that contained all the equipment they found necessary on the hunt, which among basic survival items also consisted of weapons, salt and their dad's journal. Sam's laptop had to stay back in the car, so they considered the journal to be at least a minor source of information should they come by an unknown creature on the snow-covered mountain. But mostly it was just a precaution, since they both agreed that they were probably dealing with a Wendigo.

The brothers set out a course leading northwest, needing to hike in a straight diagonal line to be able to reach the trailhead as soon as possible so that they didn't have to struggle through the wilderness more than necessary. With Dean leading the way in front and Sam following behind him while managing the map and compass, the Winchesters bee-lined their way through the heavy snow, all the while the wind picked up more and more and the temperature dropped significantly lower. Within a few hours, the weather had turned so bad that Sam could no longer hold on to the map long enough to take a good look on it, so from then on they only relied on the compass.

"It's getting really bad." Sam shouted at one point to be heard over the howling of the wind.

"What?" Dean shouted and turned around – the beam from the flashlight in his hand blinding Sam as he did so.

"It's getting really bad!" Sam shouted again while shielding his eyes from the sudden light.

This time Dean nodded, moved closer to his brother through the knee-high snow and pulled his scarf – that was wrapped around his face to protect him from the cold wind – a bit down to more easily communicate with Sam.

"How far from the trailhead are we?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Sam answered and pulled out the map. "I can't see a damn thing."

With Dean's help, the brothers' combined forces made it possible to straighten out the map and take a good look at it with the beams from their flashlights. From what they could calculate, they had to be more than halfway to the trailhead from where they could more easily reach the exact area they were gonna investigate. But the snowfall and wind were getting worse and Dean and Sam both knew that the bad weather would slow them down further. And even though they were warmly dressed, the cold still managed to find places to seep in through their clothing, making it only a matter of time before the cold would fully get to them.

"Let's try to reach the trailhead before we stop." Dean said and rubbed his gloves together to try to provide his fingers with more warmth - the short break they'd taken to look at the map having already taken its toll.

"Alright, let's go then." Sam agreed, put the map away and started pacing behind his brother once more.

It took the brothers another couple of hours before they finally reached the trailhead – more specifically; the parking lot where they had originally meant to park the Impala before the police had blocked off the road leading to there. The few abandoned cars parked there were barely visible as they were covered in snow, and the trail leading further up the mountain hardly existed. The Winchester brothers were drained of energy after walking through the snow for hours and they were both in dire need of being warmed up, so they found a place sheltered a bit from the wind by a row of trees and started setting up a tent.

"I hope this tent is as good as you claim it is." Dean said while staking down the tent. "I'll not be happy if I wake up to find you curled around me to get warm, you understand?"

Sam just ignored Dean's remark and instead focused on his task at hand. He was digging through the piles of snow around the tent and, after clearing a few spots, Sam started cutting protective Anasazi symbols into the hard ground with a knife. The symbols would do nothing to let them know if a Wendigo snuck around outside their tent, but they would at least keep it from trespassing. Sam knew that the symbols would soon be covered up by snow but it didn't matter – as long as they stayed unbroken, then he and Dean would stay protected.

With the symbols in place and the tent set up, the Winchester brothers climbed inside their shelter and quickly zipped up the tent to shield them from the cold wind and the heavy snowfall. The blizzard had not full on hit them yet, but they both knew it would only be a matter of time before it did.

"You still think we made the right choice by not waiting for the blizzard to pass?" Sam asked, taking off his gloves and blowing on his cold fingers.

"There are kids out there, Sammy. Kids who could still be alive." Dean said. "You really think we should have waited?"

"No." Sam said before climbing into his sleeping bag.

"You wouldn't be a Winchester if you did." Dean said in a soft voice and climbed into his own sleeping bag. "Hey Sammy, you wanna hear my homemade version of Jingle Bells?"

"I'd rather not." Sam said, making himself comfortable in a sitting position, as he was the one to take the first watch.

"Oh come on! You know it ain't Christmas before I've sung it." Dean grinned.

"You know what? You _should_ sing it." Sam said which made Dean raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"Really? I thought you hated that song?" Dean asked.

"I do." Sam said. "But I think it'll be a good way to scare off the Wendigo."

"Oh, shut up." Dean said and buried fully down in his sleeping bag.

A smile tucked at Sam's lips as he listened to Dean's mutterings about impudent, pain-in-the-ass little brothers.

**_ SPN _**

When Dean woke up a few hours later, he sensed a change in the atmosphere. The wind had picked up dramatically and was howling and tearing at the tent. But that was not the only change Dean felt. He snapped his head to the side and felt his breath catching in his throat as he looked at Sam's empty sleeping bag beside him.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, practically flying out of his sleeping bag and quickly putting on his boots before grabbing a flaregun and unzipping the tent. "Sam!"

The massive snowfall hit Dean like a wall of coldness and made him gasp as he crawled out of the tent and started searching for his brother. It was almost impossible to see anything from the twirling snowflakes and the cold immediately seeped through his coatless clothing.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, then coughed as the cold air tickled his throat. "Sammy!"

Dean desperately scouted the parking lot from side to side but, even though the moon lit up the area, he couldn't see a damn thing in the terrible weather. His teeth soon started chattering and his whole body started shivering, but Dean refused to let a little coldness beat him down – not when Sam was out there somewhere, not when his brother was missing.

"Sam!" Dean shouted once more, then suddenly spun around with raised gun as he heard a noise behind him.

"Whoa! Dean! What the hell?" Sam exclaimed, lifting both hands in defense – in one hand holding a flaregun matching Dean's gun, and in the other one grasping a notebook.

"What the hell?" Dean sneered and shot Sam an incredulous look before lowering his gun with an angry motion. "What are you doing out here, you moron? You scared the hell out of me!"

"I just went outside to take a piss. No big deal." Sam said and Dean's anger flared.

"No big deal? You should have woken me up and at least _told_ me that you were going outside!" Dean shouted. "You know better than that, Sam!"

"Alright, I'm sorry." Sam apologized. "But I was right behind the tent and I did bring a gun with me!"

Sam waved the flaregun in the air to prove his point and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Unbelievable." Dean grumbled and shook his head.

"Y _ou're_ the moron here though!" Sam insisted. "What the hell are you thinking walking around in a frigging _blizzard_ without as much as a jacket?"

"Well I was trying to find my incredibly annoying little brother that had gone missing, so _excuse_ _me_ for forgetting the damn jacket!" Dean mocked – even though he could no longer feel his fingers and had an unnerving feeling that his lips was turning a fine shade of blue.

"Come on, let's get back to the tent before you catch pneumonia." Sam sighed and the brothers then found their way back to their tent, walking through the twirling snowflakes side by side.

When they were back inside the tent – and Dean was being warmed up again inside his sleeping bag – Sam showed Dean the notebook he'd found.

"It's from the trail registration box." Sam said. "The one visitors use as a sort of safety tool where they sign in and out – just in case they go missing on a hike, so that rescuers may be able to find them faster."

"Yeah I know what a register box is, Sam." Dean said and waved his hand for Sam to continue.

"Anyway, this could give us a clear picture of when and where our missing people disappeared." Sam said. "For all we know, these people could have been spread out all over the mountain.."

".. or have disappeared from a certain part of the trail." Dean said.

"Exactly." Sam agreed and started flipping through pages in the notebook. "Hopefully, most of them will have written down where they were going."

"You're such a nerd, dude." Dean said with a shake of his head. "But a smart one, I'll give you that."

**_ SPN _**

The blizzard ravaged full on when Dean and Sam started making their way through the snow-covered trail leading further up the mountain. Before leaving, Sam had narrowed down the area, where people had gone missing, to be near Whale Lake – which was located about halfway along the trail and offered no less than two campsites for hikers. Furthermore, the area around Whale Lake also offered a mountainside where a Wendigo could easily be having its lair.

The snowstorm made the trail difficult to follow, and more than once did one brother have to stop up to pull the other one free of a pile of snow. In addition to their struggles, the snow now reached their thighs, and the ground underneath the snow was filled with roots and clods that unfortunately were easily caught by their boots. It was terrible conditions for a hunt but even though the Winchester brothers were starting to feel cold and exhausted, they knew they couldn't afford taking more breaks; time was everything.

However, the cold was starting to get to them, which became evident when Dean looked over his shoulder to find his brother several feet behind him, on his hands and knees in the snow. The older Winchester brother quickly closed the distance between them and bent down to grab Sam's arm.

"Come on, Sammy. Back on your feet." Dean shouted over the howling of the blizzard, and started pulling his younger brother up. "It's not the time or place to be resting now. Come on."

"I'm tired, Dean." Sam admitted in a miserably tone and Dean almost laughed at the comically sad expression on Sam's face that reminded him of a much younger Sam uttering the same words.

"I know, buddy. We're almost there." Dean said and gave Sam's back a couple of pats before they started bee-lining for their destination again.

It took them another hour and a half after that to finally reach the campsites by Whale Lake. By then, they could barely take another step and desperately needed a break, so they started searching for a great spot to set up their tent. After finding such a place, Dean once again started staking down the tent while Sam put his backpack down to get started on the symbols.

It was while trying to clear a path on the snow-covered ground that Sam was caught off guard as a giant creature suddenly shot towards him – flying out of the twirling white faster than Sam was able to comprehend. The younger brother gasped in a mix of surprise and pain as the creature made impact with the side of his body with such a force that it sent Sam flying several feet. He hit the ground with a painful grunt and then frantically tried to kick off the Wendigo that had knocked him off his feet and was now straddling his body. Before the sneering creature above him could tear Sam apart with its claws though, Dean caught its attention with a desperate amount of shouting. The Wendigo moved off Sam to go after the older brother, so Sam grabbed the opportunity to get back on his feet and pull out his flaregun. Unfortunately, the Wendigo sensed the movement from Sam's side and lashed out at the younger brother; its long sharp claws tearing into Sam's hip with a sickening sound.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted as Sam screamed out in pain.

The Wendigo turned back around to face the older Winchester brother, but was not prepared when Dean fired his flaregun and hit the creature right in the chest. The Wendigo screamed in pure agony as a fire started spreading within its body, and after a few moments the creature was transformed to a burning pile on the ground.

Dean didn't spend as much as a second celebrating it though. Instead he hurried to his fallen brother's side and kneeled down next to him in the snow.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, slipped a hand underneath Sam's head while the other one clenched the fabric of the younger man's jacket. "Oh God, Sammy."

"D-Dean." Sam gasped out, looking up at his brother with wide, pain-filled eyes.

"Shit, dude." Dean muttered as he took in the sight of the long, bleeding wounds stretching from right above Sam's hip to halfway down his thigh.

"Dean." Sam repeated and closed a hand around Dean's wrist.

"Shh, I've got you." Dean soothed, put pressure on Sam's bleeding gashes and then shushed his brother as Sam cried out in pain by the action. "It's okay, I've got. I've got you, Sammy. You just stay with me, alright? I'll fix you up."

Sam's wide eyes just continued to stare back at him, and Dean knew the younger hunter was going into shock. He knew he had to get Sam some place warm but for that to happen, Dean was forced to leave Sam's side. And although that was not an option Dean liked one bit, it was unfortunately the only option he could think of. He took off his scarf and used it to cover the bleeding gashes, wincing as Sam made a painful sound by the action.

"Sam, I'll be right back, okay? Keep pressure on this." Dean told him, moved Sam's hand to the scarf and then quickly pulled off his jacket to make a soft support for Sam's head to rest on. "Stay awake, you hear me? Stay with me, Sammy."

Whether Sam fully understood what was happening or not, Dean gave his brother's hand a quick squeeze and then left in a hurry – leaving behind a little brother who was slowly bleeding out in the middle of a blizzard, right next to the dead Wendigo that had injured him.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean hurried back towards their campsite while shielding his face against the ravaging blizzard as much as possible as he ran through the cold snow. Leaving behind his bleeding little brother had been a necessary decision but not an easy one, and definitely not a decision Dean liked one bit. He hated himself for having to leave his brother – especially since Sam hadn't been completely alert when Dean had left and could, as far as Dean knew, mistakenly believe that his big brother wouldn't return for him, and that was a thought that tore at the older Winchester's heartstrings. Dean knew he had to act fast; not only did Sam bleed steadily from the long and deep gashes across his hip and thigh, he was also at the mercy of the snowstorm and – even with the Wendigo dead – exposed to any kind of threat that might occur. Sam had also shown signs of going into shock, and that was a dangerous state to reach – one that Dean knew could be the death of his little brother if he wasn't treated soon. For that to happen though, Dean needed to get back to the place, where they'd been in the middle of setting up their tent when the Wendigo had attacked, find their abandoned backpacks and get the supplies needed to help Sam.

However, even though they'd been just within reach of the campsite, Dean had a hard time finding it again – which was weird considering that their orange-colored tent should be easy to spot through the twirling white. But it wasn't visible anywhere, and that made Dean's already rapidly beating heart hammer away even faster inside his chest. He was losing important minutes in his search for the tent - minutes that instead should have been spent taking care of his hurt brother. Dean's teeth were chattering from the cold that seeped through his too thin clothing, since the warm jacket he'd been wearing was now a soft support underneath Sam's head. But the cold was the least of Dean's problems right now. He needed to stay focused to be able to save his little brother. The little brother whom Dean had left alone and bleeding on the cold ground while he was still trying to find that goddamn campsite!

It was by sheer luck that Dean, while having a hard time seeing more than a few inches ahead of him, tumbled over something on the snow-covered ground. Dean's left boot had caught in the strap of his own backpack that had already been covered up a bit by the massive snowfall. He dug the backpack free of snow and picked up the bag with a sigh of relief. But the relief was short-lived though as realization dawned on him; if the backpack was there, then the tent was supposed to there as well. However, no matter where Dean looked, he just couldn't spot it.

"No." Dean muttered, disbelief washing over his face for a second before it was replaced by a horrific expression. "Oh, no, no no, no."

Dean had been in the middle of staking down their tent when the Wendigo had attacked Sam, and the older brother had then immediately dropped all he was doing, had pulled out his flaregun and raced after the assaulting creature. But that also meant that Dean had hunted down the Wendigo _before_ the tent had been fully secured to the ground and the consequence of it was clear; the tent had been taken by the blizzard. It was gone. The one place where they could be shielded from the endless snowstorm, the one place where Sam could get the warmth he so desperately needed right now – all gone.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled, shooting a fuming look upwards at the falling snow as if the action could somehow force the blizzard to give back what it had taken from him. But it didn't. Of course it didn't. The Winchester luck had always been shitty, so why should this time be any different?

Dean spent the next couple of moments trying to locate Sam's backpack but quickly gave up on it and sprinted back in the direction he'd come from, knowing that he was running out of time and that Sam needed help - needed it right the frigging now to be exact!

It didn't take the oldest Winchester brother long to find his way back to the place where he had left Sam. As he dropped the backpack and slid down on his knees in the snow beside his brother, Dean noticed that Sam had dragged himself closer to the burning remains of the Wendigo – probably in an attempt to absorb some of the last warmth from the dying flames.

"Attaboy, Sam." Dean mumbled with pride, then swallowed against the lump in his throat when he noticed Sam's shaking form and the closed eyes.

With a heart hammering away like a thunder storm inside his chest, Dean put his hand on Sam's cheek and gently turned the younger man's face towards him.

"Hey. Sammy, you with me?" Dean asked, failing to hide the worry that had seeped into his voice.

To the older brother's big relief, Sam's closed eyelids fluttered for a moment and his lips – that had turned a disturbing bluish tint the few moments Dean had been away - moved wordlessly in front of Sam's chattering teeth. The younger Winchester's skin was pale, and Dean had no doubts that Sam's face would be cold and clammy against his hand had the older brother not been wearing gloves. Sam's whole body shuddered terribly, but Dean took that as a good sign; it was a hell of a lot better than Sam being so cold that he was no longer shuddering from it.

"Sammy." Dean repeated, raising his voice a little as a counterpart to the howling wind. "Hey! Open your eyes, dude!"

Whether it was the frantic tone of Dean's voice or just the fact that it was Dean's voice calling to him was impossible to tell, but Sam's eyes slowly opened – then closed again against the falling snowflakes that immediately blurred his vision.

"Hey." Dean called, leaned over his brother to shield him from the snow as much as possible and put both hands on Sam's cheeks. "Sam, come on. Come on!"

Sam opened his eyes once more. He blinked unfocusedly at his big brother that stared worriedly back at him for a few seconds – then made a strangled sound in his throat as he tried to move and pain suddenly shot through him like electricity.

"Shit. Stay still." Dean demanded and gently held Sam down by a hand to his chest. "I need you awake Sam, but stay still alright? Stay with me."

"D-Dean." Sam stuttered out between chattering teeth. "H-How.. How bad?"

"Nothing I can't handle." Dean promised, feeling relieved now that Sam was awake and seemed to be somewhat alert - then moved down to take a closer look at Sam's injuries.

Dean gently removed his scarf from Sam's wounds, which was already soaked through and sticky with blood, and swallowed hard when his eyes caught sight of the mess underneath it.

Sam gasped in pain as Dean carefully tore a bit at the fabric of his clothing to get a better look at the deep gashes in Sam's skin – the older brother using his flashlight to light up the wounds, and at the same time reaching out to rub a hand back and forth on Sam's chest in a soothing way. It was bad. From what Dean could tell, Sam needed a hell of a lot of stitches to say the least, and that wasn't something Dean could manage outside in the middle of a blizzard. Hell, had this happened anywhere else, with wounds this bad, Dean would have taken Sam straight to the emergency room before even thinking about making any stitches himself. The older Winchester brother felt relieved by the fact that Sam's ski pants and jeans had at least taken the brunt of the attack, having thankfully prevented the younger man from getting his leg torn off by the Wendigo's sharp claws.

"I'm c-cold." Sam stuttered out and the weakness in his voice tore Dean out of his thoughts and made him spring into action right away.

"I know, I know. I've got you." Dean said, quickly dug out an old, grey military blanket from his backpack and draped it around Sam's shivering form. "I've got you, brother."

Dean then switched his jacket that had been supporting Sam's head with his sleeping bag instead, and quickly slipped the jacket back on to protect himself against the cold before digging into the backpack to find the medical kit. The older Winchester brother needed to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down drastically, until he was able to tend Sam's wounds more properly, so Dean used his teeth to pull off first one glove, then pulled off the other one as well and started rummaging the medical kit for gauze. Finding the supplies needed, Dean began wrapping the bandages tightly around Sam's injuries to keep pressure on them – wincing and mumbling words of comfort by every heart-wrenching noise of pain that escaped his little brother. The area just above Sam's hip was a bitch to properly bandage though, so Dean ended up wrapping the gauze all the way around Sam's stomach to keep it firmly covered before zipping the younger man's jacket back up.

"Alright, we need to find shelter somewhere and get you laid up." Dean said, his breath coming out in little white clouds of air as he wrapped an arm underneath Sam's shoulders and gently started moving Sam into a sitting position.

The younger Winchester brother grunted in effort and bit his lower lip hard as the new position tugged at his newly bandaged wounds. The change from horizontal to halfway vertical – combined with the blood loss Sam was suffering from – made him disoriented and dizzy. Dean waited until Sam seemed to shake some of the vertigo off him before he quickly packed away the sleeping bag, blanket and medical kit, and then swung the backpack up on his back.

"You good?" Dean asked Sam as he crouched down next to his brother. "We need to move, Sammy. And find shelter somewhere."

"The tent isn't far.." Sam started when Dean cut him off midsentence.

"The tent is gone." Dean said while bracing himself for the upcoming struggle it would be to get Sam up on his feet. "The blizzard took it while we played tag with the Wendigo. Now, come on."

Dean slipped an arm around the upper part of Sam's back, and clenched the fabric on the front of Sam's jacket with the other one. Dean then loudly counted to three before he hoisted Sam to his feet with clenched teeth, holding Sam like a vise grip and throwing his brother's arm over his shoulders when Sam gasped in pain and swayed dangerously.

"Easy, easy. Just lean against me, Sammy. I've got you." Dean murmured softly, accepting the bigger part of Sam's weight as the young hunter sagged against his side.

"The.. the map." Sam said in a breathless voice – his facial color as white as the snow surrounding him.

"I don't need the map. I already know where we are and there's no chance that we're hiking down the trail right now with the state you're in, Casper." Dean said and took a step forward. "I'll build a frigging snow cave if I have to."

"No Dean, the map.." Sam said, gasped and cried out in pain as every step they took shot jolts of pain through the injured side of his body. "I saw some.." Gasp. "cabins.." Gasp. "depicted on it.." Gasp. "earlier."

"You're kidding me?" Dean said and glanced at his pale and shivering brother while a little bit of hope blossomed inside his chest. "Where's the map? And please don't tell me it's in your backpack."

"My pocket." Sam answered and Dean let out a sigh of relief by the fact that Winchesters at least had a little touch of luck every now and then.

It took Dean a few tough minutes to wrestle the map out of Sam's pocket while also holding up his brother – and it then took another tough couple of minutes trying to balance both map, brother and flashlight while the wind tore at the edges of the paper and the snow obscured the landscape within. Eventually though, he managed to get a good look at the map. As Sam had remembered seeing, a few cabins had been depicted on the map – cabins that most likely belonged to local hunters, mountain rangers or could be rented by hikers that preferred the less primitive way of camping on the mountainside. When Dean had found what he was looking for and had checked it with the compass, he packed away the map before leading Sam in the direction he thought would take them to one of the nearest cabins.

While the snowstorm continued its freezing ravage, Sam continued to grunt and hiss and gasp by every agonizing step they took and, despite Dean taking up most of his weight, became more and more weak and exhausted until the point where he could barely keep his head up – let alone continue to walk.

"Sam, stay with me. Just a little longer, okay? We're almost there, almost there." Dean muttered in an endless stream of encouragements to keep Sam going as long as possible.

It was eventually a lost battle though as Sam, barely still conscious, missed a step and thereby caused fire to erupt through his hurt side - his knees buckling as he cried out in pain and was crashing face first into the snow. Fortunately, Dean reacted promptly and caught Sam before the younger brother could hit the ground.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed and grunted in effort as he struggled to hold up all of Sam's weight. "Sammy, come on. Come on! Don't you give up on me now, bro, I need you to hold on just a little bit longer."

"I.. I c-can't." Sam heaved in a weak voice - head lolling against Dean's shoulder as he desperately tried to keep it from dropping to his chest completely.

"Yes you can. Hey!" Dean shouted, lowered Sam to the ground and then grabbed him by the collar of his jacket before shaking him a bit. "Stay awake, damn it!"

Sam, whose eyes had fallen shut for a few seconds, snapped his eyes back up and blinked wildly around. But the younger Winchester brother's eyes closed once more and this time they didn't open back up again – no matter how hard Dean shook him or no matter how loud the big brother shouted at him to stay awake.

"Sam! Sam! Sammy!" Dean shouted, but it was pointless – Sam remained unconscious, and the only indicator that he was even still alive was the little white puffs of air that left his mouth by every expiration.

Dean didn't waste a second more on trying to rouse his brother. Instead, he wrapped his arms around said brother from behind – his hands locking together in front of Sam's chest along with his flashlight– and started dragging him through the snow. It was hard and cost Dean a great deal of effort with the blizzard trying its best to complicate his task, but Dean had a mission to save his little brother, and nothing – not even a blizzard on a mountainside – could prevent Dean from fulfilling that mission.

"When we get off.. this mountain.. I'm gonna.. put you on a.. diet." Dean said to his unconscious brother through gritted teeth as he kept dragging Sam through the snow – on the verge of collapsing himself from the effort and the numbing cold that threatened to consume him.

After a few more steps where he struggled with his unmoving brother, Dean's legs finally gave out on him, and he let out an 'oomph' as he assplanted in the snow with Sam following suit. Dean panted heavily and hugged Sam closer to his chest as his heart started filling with despair. Sam was dying right in front of his eyes and despite his efforts; Dean hadn't managed to find the shelter he needed to provide Sam with the care the younger brother desperately needed to survive. Feeling the faint tickle of warm breath against his cheek as Dean pressed his head against the side of Sam's face, the older brother let out a sob and willed his exhaustion away. He couldn't give up now and let Sammy die. He needed to keep moving and save his little brother.

As Dean reached out a hand to grab the flashlight he had dropped when his legs had given out, he stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the beam was pointing towards something solid in the distance. The older brother picked up the flashlight and raised it high enough for the beam to light up more of the thing in the distance, and he let out a relieved sob when he realized what he was looking at. Even though it was hard seeing anything from the snowflakes that danced wildly in the beam of the flashlight, Dean still managed to make out the outline of a cabin very close by.

"Come on, Sammy. Time to get you fixed up." Dean murmured, struggled to his feet and spent the last bit of his strength dragging Sam towards the cabin while the blizzard kept on howling around them.


	3. Chapter 3

The cabin's interior consisted of a main room with a minor fireplace, a shabby couch and a small kitchenette, an adjoining bathroom (which was in reality just a fancy way of saying "a bowl and a washbasin") and a bedroom containing a single bed. Overall – and despite the fact that the Winchesters didn't live a very luxuriously life as it was – it wasn't something Dean would give more than a single star on a normal basis but, in the situation they were currently in, it was a blessing.

After breaking open the padlock of the door with a shot of his gun, Dean dragged Sam inside the cabin and immediately shut the door behind them to avoid too much wind and snow to follow suit, before collapsing on the floor next to Sam. While trying to catch his breath after the exhausting trip through the snow, Dean spent a few seconds on his back with his eyes closed – then turned his head to look at his motionless little brother. The sight of Sam's disturbingly pale appearance threw Dean into action, so he willed his exhaustion away, quickly got up from the floor, shook off his backpack and then got to work.

First things first, the older Winchester brother made sure that Sam was in fact still alive and breathing – pulled off his gloves and tenderly touched Sam's pale face before searching for a pulse. After finding a sluggish but present pulse, Dean wondered with rising anxiety what would kill Sam first if he didn't act fast enough; hypothermia or blood loss? Sam's skin was so damn cold to the touch, his face was drained of color – except for his lips that had an alarming tint of blue – and, to Dean's big concern, Sam's breathing was troubled and the younger man looked like he could be slipping away any minute. But then there was Sam's leg to worry about too.. Dean didn't even wanna think about how much blood Sam had lost on the way to the cabin, or how little time he had left to save his brother from bleeding out.

Dean made a decision and quickly began stripping Sam of his jacket, hat, scarf and boots (leaving the gloves be) before cocooning the younger Winchester's upper body in the military blanket to keep Sam as warm as possible. He then rummaged the backpack for the medical kit and, after finding it, found a pair of scissors and started cutting through the material of Sam's ski pants – not failing to notice that blood had soaked through the bandages that Dean had bound around Sam's wounds after the run-in with the Wendigo.

"Shit.." Dean mumbled and pulled his flashlight closer to get a greater view of the wounds.

It was not easy to see anything from the crimson that decorated one half of Sam's right side, and Dean bit his lower lip hard as panic threatened to consume him. The older brother rushed to the kitchenette, tore open drawers and cabinets – not caring that pottery and cutlery clattered to the floor in his search for items needed to clean Sam's wounds. After finding a bowl and a cloth, Dean quickly filled up the bowl with water and soap before he hurried back to his unmoving brother.

"Here it goes, here it goes." Dean muttered, dipped the cloth in the bowl of water and started cleaning Sam's wounds in a quick but efficient manner. "You're gonna be okay Sammy, I promise."

Blood kept oozing from the wounds so, as soon as he was done cleaning the gashes to hopefully avoid infection, Dean used butterfly bandages and gauze to hold together the edges of Sam's slashes to prevent too much blood from spilling while he stitched up each individual wound. Despite the chill temperature of the room, beads of sweat showed up on Dean's forehead as he found a needle and began sterilizing it as much as possible by burning the tip of it with a lighter. The older brother then let it soak in some hydrogen peroxide while he found and started preparing the thread needed to perform the stitches. Before beginning his work, Dean cupped Sam's cold cheek and sent his brother a silent plea to stay alive – then threaded the needle, took a deep breath and started humming Metallica to himself as he penetrated Sam's skin with the needle.

To Dean's big relief, and equally big concern, Sam didn't as much as twitch while Dean stitched up the long marks from the Wendigo's sharp claws – nor did he make any sounds or look any less moribund as the minutes ticked away. After making the final stitch, Dean applied some antibiotic ointment to the stitched-up slashes and wrapped gauze around Sam's entire injured thigh, hip and lower part of his stomach to keep the wounds covered and protected. Even though he'd worked under a lot of pressure, Dean had still made sure to keep the stitches as neat as possible to hopefully avoid too much scarring from occurring on Sam's body – although scarring, in reality, was the least of Sam's problems right now.

"Alright, let's get you warmed up." Dean said, checked Sam's pulse yet again and then wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, before beginning the second phase of his mission to save his brother's life: getting Sam heated up.

Dean wrapped his sleeping bag around the lower part of Sam's body to provide the younger man with a little bit of warmth while Dean started searching the cabin for any source of heat that could help him warm up his brother. The older Winchester found a small pile of firewood next to the fireplace and, after lighting up a fire using lighter fluid and his Zippo, Dean managed to track down two blankets in the bedroom and brought them back with him to the main room. He dumped the blankets on the couch in front of the fireplace and then returned to his brother's side, kneeling down next to Sam and touching the young hunter's cheek.

"Geez kid, you're still freezing cold." Dean said in a soft voice, then edged around Sam and wrapped his arms underneath the younger Winchester's armpits before hoisting Sam to his chest.

Dean clenched his jaw from the effort of holding all of Sam's weight as he started dragging his oblivious little brother towards the couch while being as careful as possible not to jar Sam's injuries too much. Getting Sam situated on the couch luckily proved to be easier than Dean had expected and, as soon as Sam was laid up, Dean cocooned his brother in the sleeping bag plus three layers of blankets – then used Sam's jacket as a makeshift pillow for the younger man and used his own jacket to support the wounded part of Sam's body.

The older Winchester kneeled down by the fireplace and put another log on the fire – then went to the backside of the couch and pushed it a little further away from the hearth. Sam needed all the warmth he could get but Dean was aware that in severe cases of hypothermia, it was crucial not to apply direct heat to warm a person. Dean sure as hell wouldn't risk that the heat damaged Sam even more - or worse; caused his little brother's heart to stop entirely. Satisfied that Sam was close enough to the fireplace to feel the heat but still too far away to be in any immediate danger, Dean picked up a thermometer from the first-aid kit and carefully pried Sam's mouth open before slipping the thermometer under Sam's tongue. A concerned frown line formed between Dean's eyes by the still freezing temperature of Sam's skin and the bluish tint that had yet to leave Sam's lips, and the frown deepened when the thermometer beeped and Dean read the digits on the display.

"Too cold." Dean said, his heart hammering away inside his chest as he realized that Sam was far from out of the woods just yet – then quickly jumped into action once more.

Dean kicked off his boots and ski pants – both of which he hadn't had the time to take off earlier as he had been focused entirely on tending Sam's wounds – and then stripped out of his shirts as well before gently removing his brother's shirts too.

"You better be glad you're unconscious for this, little brother." Dean grumbled as he carefully moved Sam forward a little so he could slip behind him and then pulled Sam back against his bare chest. "Oh frigging shit!"

Dean gasped as his skin made contact with Sam's freezing cold back but, unlike most people would do in that situation, Dean didn't pull away. Instead, he draped the sleeping bag and blankets around the both of them, gripped Sam's limp form tighter and hugged his brother to his chest.

"Come on, Sammy. Warm up." Dean ordered, although his voice remained nothing but soft.

Dean soon began shivering from the cold bodily contact with his brother but it didn't matter to him. The only thing that did matter was whether Sam was regaining some of his body temperature or not as the minutes ticked by.

"What a Christmas, huh Sammy?" Dean mumbled, feeling tiredness wash over him as Sam's cold back, slowly but surely, gave away for the warmth of Dean's chest.

Without consciously making the decision to do so, Dean silently began to sing his own homemade version of _Jingle Bells_ – a song that Sam had always claimed to hate, although Dean had a feeling that Sam secretly liked it. The older Winchester brother had come up with the song on a snowy December day when he had been fourteen – Sammy ten – and had spent two agonizing weeks inside a motel room with his little brother who had been laid up with pneumonia. Dean had memorized the words and had, to Sam's big irritation, sung his Christmas song for his brother every single Christmas since then.

Dean sang the song in a soft tone, unconsciously rocked Sam a bit from side to side in his arms while doing so. Despite his intentions to keep vigil over Sam until he was sure the younger man wouldn't die from hypothermia, Dean's eyes slipped closed as the exhaustion from the trip through the snow - combined with the heat from the fireplace and the comforting feeling of Sam's presence – pulled him under. While the blizzard continued its ravaging path outside, making the cabin creak and groan around them, Dean nodded off to sleep with Sam still tightly tugged against him.

**_ SPN _**

It was the shivering that woke him up. Painful, stabbing shivers that prickled his skin and felt like icicles tap dancing all over his body. Sam felt exhausted and nauseous - disoriented too as he slowly blinked his eyes open and tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there.

"Dea-" Sam started in a rusty voice, then cut himself off with a loud yelp as he tried to move and a jarring pain shot through the right side of his body – catching his breath and robbing him of the ability to speak for a few agonizing seconds.

"Sammy? Sam!" His brother's voice shouted at him and it took Sam a couple of moments to realize that the sound came from behind him and that the warm pressure around his chest was actually Dean's arms holding him. "Sammy, talk to me, damn it!"

"Dean, wha-" Sam gasped out, then clenched his jaw tight as his movement once again caused pain to flare up.

"Stay still." Dean ordered and held Sam closer as he felt the younger man's shivers. "You'll ruin the stitches."

"Stitches?" Sam asked with confusion as he regained control of his voice – although said voice was a bit slurred in Sam's confused state.

"From the Wendigo attack." Dean reminded him and Sam slowly nodded as the memory of the hunt outside in the snowstorm slowly came back to him.

"I'm cold." Sam announced and closed his eyes for a second as he felt Dean's arms tighten around him after hearing those words.

Dean was warm against his back but Sam still felt unbelievable cold. The older brother took the shivering as a good sign though, since it meant that Sam was starting to warm up a bit.

"You're naked, aren't you?" Sam asked with a sigh, knowing the most effective procedure in warming someone up was skin-to-skin contact.

" _Half_ -naked." Dean corrected and smirked when he could practically feel Sam's eye roll. "But only to save your bacon, so you owe me one."

"Figured." Sam said and then coughed a little.

Dean frowned in concern when Sam coughed once more – a deep, rattling cough that was followed by a few wheezing breaths. The older Winchester slipped one of his hands out from the cocoon of blankets and palmed Sam's forehead, not liking that his brother's skin felt cool and clammy against his hand.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked. "And no BS, Sam."

"Cold." Sam answered with chattering teeth and took a sharp intake of breath as he accidentally jarred his injured side. "Tired.. and nauseous."

"And the pain?" Dean wanted to know.

"I can handle it." Sam said on a long exhale. "As long as I don't move too much."

"Then stay still, alright?" Dean said and Sam nodded.

The youngest Winchester brother felt dizzy and sort of numb and detached to his own body – even with the shivers and the pain that continued to run through him. The nausea wasn't getting any better either and Sam was struggling hard to get it under control while also fighting the other issues he had to deal with. It was a lost battle though and it didn't take long before Sam started gagging.

"I'm gonna.." Sam gasped out, but Dean was already prepared.

With one hand on Sam's forehead and the other one still wrapped around Sam's chest, Dean gently rolled them to the side – wincing as Sam cried out in pain by the motion.

"Easy, easy." Dean murmured in Sam's ear and kept holding on to his brother as Sam then started barfing onto the floor.

When Sam was done emptying his stomach, Dean rolled him onto his back again and slipped out from his position behind his younger brother while making sure not to jostle Sam too much. Dean then went to the kitchenette and returned to Sam's side a few moments later with a damp cloth and a small cup of water.

"Here." Dean said, pushed Sam upwards a bit and held the cup to Sam's lips.

Sam gratefully drank a few sips of the water before lying back down, looking pale and exhausted while the shivers still wracked his body. Dean eyed his brother worriedly but remained silent as he used the damp cloth to wipe down Sam's face, all the while Sam blinked up at his older brother with eyes at half-mast. Dean then worked the younger man into his t-shirt and a long-sleeved shirt that had been tucked away inside the backpack, before he tucked the blankets closer around Sam's shivering form.

"As soon as you're warm, I'm gonna get you off this mountain." Dean promised.

"Dean, no." Sam said which made the older brother raise his eyebrows in confusion.

"No?" Dean asked.

"The hunt.." Sam started but Dean cut him off.

"Screw the hunt!" Dean exclaimed. "Sam, I'm not gonna let you.."

"The Wendigo might be dead but there are still kids out there." Sam said, effectively cutting off his brother. "Kids who need our help."

Dean clenched his jaw while staring at Sam, then bit his lower lip and shook his head.

"I'm not leaving you alone up here." Dean said with determination.

"You have to." Sam said. "Go save those kids and.. then come back for me."

Dean stared at Sam's dewy-eyed face for a few seconds, then shook his head once more and glanced out of the cabin's window. Outside, the blizzard had calmed significantly – leaving only slow-falling snowflakes in its wake. Every instinct inside Dean screamed at him to forget about the victims and get his little brother off the damn mountain and into an ER as soon as possible. But Sam was right.. A true Winchester never walked away when people were in danger – especially not when kids were involved.

Instead of letting Sam in on his thoughts though, Dean walked to the fireplace and threw a few more logs on the fire. He then put on a t-shirt of his own again and began the task of wiping up the vomit from the floor - all the while Sam's eyes followed his every move.

"Dean." Sam sighed.

"What?" Dean asked, discarding the used cloth in the bathroom sink before returning to the main room, avoiding Sam's eyes as he walked to the place where he'd dumped the backpack and then started rummaging the contains for a bottle of painkillers.

"You know what." Sam answered in a soft voice before coughing.

"I don't like it, Sammy." Dean said, cursing a little as he found no bottle of painkillers in the backpack. They were missing from the first-aid kit and Dean had a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realized that the pill bottle was still lying inside the Impala's glove department where he had left them after their latest supply run.

"I'll be fine, Dean." Sam promised, although he looked far from fine when Dean sat down on the edge of the couch to take a look at Sam's stitched-up wounds.

Even though Dean was being very careful, Sam still had to bite his lip hard to keep from making any sounds as Dean moved up the blankets a bit and started unwrapping the bandages from Sam's wounds. When the older brother gently probed around the stitches, Sam couldn't hold back a hiss of pain, and Dean then looked up at his little brother with a concerned frown on his face.

"We don't have any painkillers." Dean said in an apologetic voice. "I forgot to put them into the kit. But I'll give you some antibiotics though - I don't like the redness I see around some of these stitches."

Sam nodded his answer, not really trusting his voice as Dean started wrapping new bandages around his wounds. He could have used those painkillers right about now as pain kept flaring through his body – the shivers not making the circumstances easier – but being a son of John Winchester, Sam had learned how to deal with even the most unbearable pain. He could do this. He could breathe through the pain until Dean returned for him.

**_ SPN _**

Sam didn't know how long Dean had been away. After the older Winchester brother reluctantly left the cabin to go look for the missing people, Sam had drifted off into a restless sleep but he kept waking up every time an in particular bad round of shivers wracked through his body and caused his hurt side to burn. Sam had no idea how much time had passed or how many times he had drifted in and out of sleep – had he had the energy to do it, Sam would have reached for his cell phone, that Dean had left within reach, to check the time, but he just couldn't find the strength to do it. Even though he still felt cold, sweat prickled out on his forehead and damped his long hair, and every now and then, a coughing fit would steal his breath away and leave him even more exhausted than he already was.

"Dean?" Sam called out, then two seconds later remembered that he was alone in the cabin and that Dean was still outside looking for the missing people.

A fever-induced haze clouded Sam's mind and made it even harder for him to keep track of time. How long had Dean been gone? Ten minutes? An hour? Half a day? Sam wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Had it been days already?

The younger Winchester reached for the water bottle Dean had left him, grunted in effort as he actually had to move his arm – then let out a few swear words as his shaky fingers accidentally knocked the bottle over. Sam heard the water bottle roll underneath the couch, and he pursed his lips in frustration before moving his arm back under the blankets with great effort.

"Damn it." He mumbled and, now that the water was no longer in reach, Sam suddenly felt unbelievably thirsty - his mouth was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper.

Sam knew staying hydrated was important if he wanted to stay alive until Dean came back for him, but he couldn't reach the water bottle, let alone move a little without causing agonizing pain to rip through his body. So he stayed where he was – wishing his big brother was alright and would return for him as soon as possible.

After a little while, Sam fell into a dreamless slumber – embracing the darkness and the peace that came along with it. Inside the darkness, Sam felt no pain. Inside the darkness, he didn't feel cold. Inside the darkness, he could pretend Dean wasn't alone outside in the snowy weather while Sam was too weak to even pick up a bottle of water.

**_ SPN _**

It was the sound of his big brother shouting his name that tore through the darkness and pulled Sam back towards consciousness. It took him a little while to understand the words but, even though the sounds started off muffled, Sam still recognized Dean's voice and held on to it.

"Sammy, come on. Come on." Dean's voice begged.

Sam didn't want to leave the peaceful darkness though – the more aware he became, the more the pain in his body became more than just a dull throbbing. But there was something in Dean's voice, and the fact that it was _Dean_ calling his name, that made Sam let go of the darkness that held him back and reach for the light that was his brother's voice.

Sam opened his eyes with a loud inhale of wheezing breath and found Dean hovering above him, palms cupping his cheeks.

"Oh, thank God." Dean said with a relieved sigh. "I thought I'd lost you for a second there, bro."

"Dean?" Sam rasped out, but Dean just shushed him, cupped the back of his neck and held a water bottle to his lips.

"Drink." Dean said in a soft voice and Sam did as he was told – drinking greedily of the water until Dean took the bottle away. "Easy now."

"Dean.." Sam started with a cough, but was then cut off by an unfamiliar voice.

"When can we leave?" The voice asked which made Sam frown in confusion.

"As soon as my brother is good to go." Dean answered without taking his concerned eyes away from Sam's.

"And when is that?" The voice asked again – a male voice, Sam realized.

Dean ignored the question and focused entirely on his little brother, concern still coloring his face. He had returned to the cabin to find Sam out cold – shivering but at the same time burning up with fever and, although he hadn't checked it yet, Dean was worried that Sam's wounds had become infected. Sam's facial color was ashen and yet pale as a sheet, and his breathing was troubled and wheezing. Based on the fact that Dean had found the still full water bottle on the floor behind the couch, he knew that Sam was probably dehydrated as well, and that he more than anything needed to get his brother to an ER as soon as possible.

"Look, my kids need to get somewhere safe and warm." The person said again and Dean shot a glare at the man he'd managed to rescue from the Wendigo's lair.

Dean had found several bodies in a cave a few miles away, but he had to his big relief also found a man, the man's wife and two kids in there – all still alive and more or less unharmed – plus another guy whose hiker-buddy unfortunately hadn't made it.

"Just go help Jeremy with the sledge and I'll get Sam ready to go, alright?" Dean told the man, Warren, who reluctantly left the cabin to do as Dean had ordered.

The hiker-guy, Jeremy, was familiar with the area and knew that some of the cabins contained a rescue sledge that could be used in emergencies, and he had let Dean in on this piece of information after he and Warren had both promised to help Dean with Sam as a way to repay the older Winchester for saving their lives. Since Jeremy knew the area, and the snowfall had more or less come to an end, it hadn't taken the hiker very long to locate a rescue sledge in a nearby cabin shed. And for that, Dean was grateful. It would be a hell of a lot easier to get Sam to the Impala and off to the ER this way and it would save Dean a lot of precious time – time that was crucial in order to save the younger Winchester's life.

"What's going on?" Sam slurred out, bringing Dean's attention back to his brother in an instant.

"We're gonna leave this mountain now and get you fixed up." Dean said and let his fingers brush through Sam's sticky hair before getting started on preparing Sam for the trip.

The older Winchester brother changed Sam's bandages – mindful of the fact that some of the wounds showed signs of infection – and fed his brother some antibiotics and more water before moving on to getting Sam warmly dressed. It was quite a struggle to get Sam redressed in his jacket since the younger man was too weak to move his own limps, and every movement also jarred his injured side. Dean completely dropped the task of getting Sam into the ski pants again - Dean had cut through them when he had tended Sam's wounds in the first place, so they'd lost a bit of their function anyway.

Sam was barely conscious by the time Dean had finished, and the older brother eyed him warily.

"Sam? Stay with me, alright?" Dean demanded and sent his brother a sad but encouraging smile as Sam fought hard to keep his eyes open.

He was just so damn tired…

"Sam!" Dean shouted at him.

Sam jumped a little and snapped his eyes back open – the sudden movement causing pain to flare in his hurt side, and making him grunt and clench his teeth.

"Stay with me, you hear me Sam?" Dean repeated, bent down a little to catch his little brother's eyes and copied Sam's gesture as the younger Winchester acknowledged the request with a nod of his head.

Before Sam could even comprehend what was happening, arms wrapped around his chest from behind while hands grabbed his legs and lifted him up. Sam yelped in pain as the motion didn't do anything good for his injured side, and he continued to make pain-filled noises as he was carried out of the cabin and outside into the cold weather – all the while Dean kept murmuring soothing words to him.

"Almost there, almost there." Dean said and, moments later, Sam was lowered down on something he later realized was a rescue sledge that Dean had somehow conjured up.

The sledge was padded with something soft, and as soon as Sam stopped being blinded by the burning pain in his body, he tried to focus on his big brother's face above him as Dean was making sure that Sam was fully wrapped in the blankets and was gonna stay as warm as possible.

"Dean?" Sam asked in a weak voice, and Dean stopped everything he was doing and leaned closer to Sam to listen to his younger brother.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean asked with a worried expression.

"You haven't sung your Christmas song." Sam said with such a seriousness that Dean couldn't help but snort out a laugh.

"I thought you hated that song, little brother?" Dean smiled.

"Yeah." Sam said and looked a bit away. "I guess I do."

"Tell you what." Dean said and tugged the blankets up around Sam's neck in a tender way, catching Sam's eyes again. "Once we get off this mountain, and you're hooked up on some of the good stuff, I'll sing it. Deal?"

"Deal." Sam agreed and Dean grinned down at him for a moment before disappearing from Sam's sight.

"Let's go!" Dean shouted at people Sam still didn't know who were – even though he did catch a glimpse of a frightened woman holding on to a couple of equally frightened kids.

As the sledge started moving underneath him, Sam looked up at the snowflakes that fell slowly down from the sky above him, and he smiled. Dean had found the missing kids after all. They were safe.

**_ SPN _**

The sterile surroundings were no surprise to Sam as he slowly blinked his eyes open and the white ceiling above him gradually came into focus. Along with the beeping sound of a heart monitor, Dean's voice could be heard across the room as the older Winchester was having a low-voiced conversation with a nurse. Even though he couldn't hear the words being spoken, Sam knew that everything would be fine – as long as Dean was in the room with him, there was no need to worry. He was okay.

"Stop flirting with the nurses, you jerk." Sam croaked out as soon as the nurse had left, and then smiled tiredly at his big brother when Dean turned around and looked at him with a smirk on his face.

"Oh please, _she_ was the one flirting with _me._ " Dean grinned which earned him an eye-roll from Sam as Dean walked across the room. "You passed out on me out there, bro. I thought we agreed that when I give you an order to stay awake, you act like a good little bitch and do as I say!"

"That would be a first." Sam snorted, then coughed a little and adjusted his nasal cannula a bit. "So, what's the verdict?"

"Hypothermia, infected wounds, aneamia, pneumonia – you know, the usual stuff." Dean said and sat down in the chair that was placed next to Sam's hospital bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm not feeling anything right now, actually." Sam said and Dean raised his eyebrows.

"That's right. You're on the good stuff." Dean nodded and eyed the bag of morphine that was hooked up to Sam's arm.

"When did we get off the mountain?" Sam asked.

"A couple of days ago." Dean answered and washed a hand down the stubbles on his face. "You remember that officer that blocked our way when we were heading up the mountain in the first place?"

"Sure." Sam answered.

"Well, turns out he discovered the Impala the day after the snowstorm and decided we were idiots for hiking out despite his warnings, so he started a rescue search for us. We ran into the rescue-team halfway down the mountain and you were flown to the nearest hospital by helicopter." Dean said. "Doctors say that the time saved, saved your life."

"Doctors don't know that I would have already been dead if not for you." Sam said in a soft voice.

"I think I'll have to talk to a doctor about the administration of your morphine. You're entering chick-flick area, Samantha." Dean teased but Sam was too tired to come up with a good comeback. Besides, Dean's teasing didn't match the softness in his eyes anyway. "Get some rest, Sam. We'll talk later."

"Hmm.." Sam hummed, eyes already closing.

Before he completely let himself be consumed by the floating feeling the morphine blanketed him in, Sam's lips twitched into a small smile as Dean stuck to the promise he'd made his little brother before they'd left the mountain. The older Winchester made himself comfortable on his chair, rested his feet on the edge of Sam's hospital bed with legs crossed at his ankles, and then quietly began to sing his homemade Christmas song. They'd been in this situation before, camped out in a frigging hospital room during Christmas, and no matter how much it sucked that it, for a Winchester, was fairly normal to spend the festive season this way, there was one thing that made all of it bearable; they still had each other, and that was what had always mattered anyway.

" _Jingle Bells, Sammy smells,_

_monsters go to hell,_

_I look cool, again this yule,_

_and the car will always rule_.

_Jingle Bells, say farewell,_

_to another new motel,_

_at Christmas time I killed a witch,_

_and Sammy is a bitch_."

**THE END**


End file.
